


Realization

by bruinsand1d22



Category: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich - Fandom, Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 08:10:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1462087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruinsand1d22/pseuds/bruinsand1d22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian's perspective on the hotel scene in 4x09, added pain from knowing how the season ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Realization

Ian heard the door close behind him as he sat down on the bed, beginning to unbutton his dress shirt and staring ahead out the hotel window. A throat cleared behind him, and he turned to find the just-about-naked form of the old man from the bar waiting anxiously on the other side of the bed.

 

Dropping his shirt to the floor, Ian tried to give the man the most seductive look he could, but failed to hold the gaze for long when he saw the bulge forming at the stranger’s middle.

 

“So, uh, do you like it rough?”

 

Ian jumped at the man’s sudden words, eyes focusing on the slight crack in the closet door next to the bed. A glimmer of light reflected out from the crack, the gesture no doubt one of reassurance from the boy behind the door.

 

Ian turned back around, reaching up to pull his tank top over his muscular shoulders, feeling it pull at his hair as it slid over his head.

 

“Whatever you’re into,” Ian answered, trying hard not to let his eye roll show through his words.

 

A second later there were hands on his sides, and he didn’t have time to react before he hit the bed with a grunt. Ian could feel the man’s hardness pressed against his ass, and he regretting pulling his jeans off a few minutes earlier.

 

Prodding hands made there way over Ian’s stomach; hot, uncomfortable breaths hitting his neck. Propping himself up on a forearm, Ian gave a slight nod towards the closet.

 

“Say cheese muthafucker!”

 

The door opened with a bang as Mickey jumped out, a bright flash filling the room. The grip on Ian’s sides tightened, the man obviously confused as he tried to block Ian from an angry looking Mickey. But as soon as Mickey’s fist connected with the older man’s jaw, Ian was able to wiggle free, rolling off the bed and towards the side table where his pants hung.

 

Immediately breathing a sigh of relief, Ian leaned back against the table and watched as Mickey taunted the gullible stranger, holding up his phone and threatening him in an effort for cash. Ian felt a pang of sympathy pass through him for the unlucky man, having unknowingly walked into their trap. He probably was just a guy living a hidden life, forced to spend his nights at the hotel in the slight chance that he’ll find someone equally as desperate.

 

“You could at least have the twink suck me off first.”

 

Ian’s guilt washed away, at the man’s word’s, instead a white hot feeling of realization flooding through him at the truth behind the statement.

 

“Is that all you think he is?”

 

Ian looked up at Mickey questioningly, finding Mickey’s eyes already on him.

 

“Just some twink?” Mickey continued, his gaze softening at Ian, the first look being shared between the two since Ian had entered the room with the guest. Ian knew Mickey was reading him like a book, the normally sarcastic look filling with concern at the hurt in Ian’s eyes.

 

“He gave me blue balls.”

 

Ian watched as Mickey’s eyebrows shot up, his hands balling into fists at his sides. The guy was just asking for it now, and when he crumpled to the ground from Mickey’s painful kick, Ian pushed himself off the desk and began reaching for his scattered clothing.

 

Turning and shuffling into his jeans, Ian let his thoughts swirl loudly in his head, the one’s replaying the words and dark hooded eyes of the stranger. He couldn’t help but flinch when he felt a hand on his lower back. Mickey’s touch was gentle though, and Ian relaxed slightly into the light fingers.

 

“I’ll go with him downstairs,” Mickey said calmly, looking up at Ian with his bright blue eyes. Ian just nodded, still focused on the other man in the room, who was getting dressed with angry mutterings in the corner.

 

“You okay?”

 

The words left Mickey’s mouth before he could stop them, and Ian forced his eyes to crinkle slightly at the corners as they shifted down to meet Mickey’s. He nodded again, breathing out a “yeah”, feeling Mickey’s fingers flex on his side before pulling away slowly, leaving Ian’s skin hot and wishing for their return.

 

“I’ll be right back okay?” Mickey’s voice was quiet, but his eyes were strong, and all Ian wanted to do was pull him close so he could feel his strong arms around him, holding him together, confirming he was still whole.

 

 

 

 

A minute later he found himself alone, wrapped up in the thick comforter, the only light coming from the busy city below. Ian was tired, his body felt heavy, the words of the perv still circling in his head. He knew the man was right, he was a twink just looking for money, that’s who he had become, and Ian felt a shudder run through him at the memory of the cold, old body pressed against his, just as many others had been in weeks before. Ian pulled the covers tight around his shoulders, waiting for the sound of Mickey entering, hoping it would come soon.

 

It was 20 minutes later when the card finally slid into the lock, the door opening with calls of excitement.

 

“Guess which baby daddy is off the hook –“ Mickey’s cheers stopped when he stepped completely into the room, the dark atmosphere no doubt hitting him with confusion. “Ian?”

 

The red-head perked up slightly at his name, peering through tired eyes across the room to Mickey’s shadowed form. There was a sharp intake of breath when Mickey’s eyes met Ian’s, no doubt seeing the rawness pouring out.

 

Ian closed his eyes once more, not needing the pitied stare, wishing he could just be happy instead of the hallowed emptiness he felt. The feeling that always came from being touched by someone so dirty, just interested in his body, never showing the warmth of love.

 

He felt the mattress bend by his feet, and pretty soon there was a solid presence facing him. A light hand brushed along his head, and instead of flinching away, Ian moved into it, desperate for the pressure on his skin, sighing when Mickey’s fingertips ghosted across his cheek.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

The words were breathed across his neck, and Ian hated himself, hated that he felt like this. Hated that Mickey was sorry because Ian knew the other boy hadn’t done anything wrong. Hated that Mickey thought that any of this was his fault.

 

“Did you get the money?” His own words surprised him, and he felt Mickey’s hand freeze in his hair.

 

“Ian,” Mickey’s voice held a pleading tone now, which just made Ian’s anger grow. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just a con. He didn’t need pity, he wasn’t worth it.

 

“What Mickey.”

 

“Please look at me.”

 

Ian’s eyes slotted open in the darkness, pushing to hold strong against Mickey’s worried one’s.

 

“I’m fine, it’s fine Mick.”

 

“Please don’t,” Mickey stopped himself as he watched Ian’s eyes fill with tears, his head shaking back and forth, hands coming up to grip at his temples in frustration.

 

Watching as Ian curled in on himself, Mickey felt it something click inside his head. Ian wasn’t trying to get away from him, but instead if Mickey didn’t know better, it would look like he was having a nightmare. Like something was attacking him on the inside, causing Ian to twitch and shake, fingers pinching the skin at his temples.

 

Mickey felt a sense of protection flare up in him, followed by a sense of sudden hopelessness. He didn’t know how to help Ian, how to stop whatever it is that had him squeezing his eyes shut in pain, but knew he couldn’t stand another minute of the panicked noises.

 

“Hey, come here.” Mickey wrapped one arm around Ian’s waist, the other behind his head as he pulled the shaking boy close into his chest. Ian melted into him, burying his face into Mickey’s neck, hands balling into Mickey’s shirt.

 

Mickey’s hand was rubbing circles into his back, the other one pulling gently at the hairs on his neck. When Ian’s breathing had settled, the calming shapes on his back slowed.

 

“I shouldn’t have made you do that,” Mickey whispered against Ian’s hair, tugging him closer to enforce his words.

 

It was minutes before Ian spoke, his words ones he hadn’t been able to say to anyone, leaving his mouth for the first time in a shaky whisper.

 

“I need help Mickey.” Ian’s voice was tiny, he despised himself for sounding so weak, but when he felt Mickey nod his head without having to ask questions he couldn’t answer, the tension flew from his shoulders.

 

“I know.” And Mickey did know. Not exactly what, but he knew whatever Ian needed, he would be there with him. Ian just needed someone to understand, someone to tell him it was going to be okay. “I’m here Ian.”

 

Ian could hear the truth in Mickey’s voice, could feel Mickey’s equaling vulnerability showing to prove to Ian that he cared. Feeling the pressure of lips against the spiky sides of his haircut, Ian untangled one of his arms to wrap it around Mickey’s waist, clutching him tight, tangling his legs with Mickey’s own, feelings the other boy with every inch of his body.

 

Their breathing stilled and the room was quiet again, the only sounds coming from the busy streets below. Mickey felt himself drifting off to sleep, the warm weight of Ian’s body comforting in the perfect way. He would do whatever he could to protect Ian, just like he always had.

**Author's Note:**

> ahh I dunno if I like this one... I like writing fluff better but the finale was rough to my fluff side. But thanks for reading, and as always prompts and feedback is welcome!! xx


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